


[vore/dolcett] When Dinner Fights Back

by wolfbunny



Series: Mishmash Kemonomimi AU series [26]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Cooking, Dolcett - Freeform, Hard vore, Impalement, Injury, M/M, Non-fatal vore, Soft Vore, Torture, Vore, kemonomimi skeletons, safe vore, unwilling prey, willing prey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-10-22 05:50:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17657105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfbunny/pseuds/wolfbunny
Summary: When dinner fights back, it doesn't make that much difference in the long run.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DandelionSea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DandelionSea/gifts).



> Content note: cooking, injury, unwilling prey

Blueberry was cornered, but there was no use in kicking himself for being herded up against the rock now. He turned to face the fox, manifesting a long bone in his hand.   
  
“You think I’m some defenseless bunny?” he challenged, brandishing the weapon.   
  
The fox grinned, lazy and confident. “Not at all. How do you think I got this?” He gestured to the gaping wound in his skull, where something had bashed off a huge chunk of the bone along with his entire left ear. Blueberry couldn’t help but marvel that the fox had survived such an injury.   
  
“A bunny did that?” he asked, awed but careful not to let his guard down.   
  
The fox shrugged. Was he embarrassed after all, to have been scarred by a mere rabbit? Had it been some other kind of prey? Or was he just lying? It was probably a wolf or a human or something.   
  
Blueberry found himself distracted by the question, so he put it out of his mind. But maybe he could use the fox’s strategy against him, keep him talking until he slipped up and left an opening for the bunny to escape.   
  
“What’s your name, fox?” he asked, too preoccupied with getting away to think of a better question.   
  
“You can call me Blood.” The fox leered at him, and Blueberry was sure he was imagining how the bunny would taste.   
  
Blueberry kept his eyes on the fox, trying to judge with his peripheral vision if there was enough space for him to run past without getting pounced on. He doubted it. “Charmed,” he said, summoning a row of bone constructs in front of the fox. Let him see them and dodge; Blueberry wanted him distracted, not angry.  
  
The fox wasn’t even fazed, sidestepping Blueberry’s attack and summoning a solitary bone of his own, which nicked the bunny’s cheekbone. He felt a drop of magic slide down his jaw. He wouldn’t get out of this confrontation so easily.  
  
This was what he’d practiced for! He would be okay, he told himself, concentrating on forming a complex pattern of bones.  
  
The fox dodged them without even appearing to pay much attention, eyes half-lidded and hands shoved into his pockets. “Not bad,” he granted, “for a bunny.” Then he performed his own attack, forcing Blueberry to dodge one bone by moving right into the path of another. An obvious strategy in retrospect, but hindsight didn’t help Blueberry now that he’d lost another chunk of HP.  
  
He couldn’t lose focus to regrets, though. Shaking his skull to clear it, he quickly planned and launched his next sequence, and was gratified to see the fox’s eye sockets widen as he sidestepped it. The rush was momentary though, as he realized he’d have to do better to actually hit his opponent. Tamping down the urge to panic, he launched into his next attack.  
  
In an instant he was pinned to the rock by two bones crossing in front of his neck.  
  
“Hey, that’s not fair,” the fox scolded. “You gotta let me have a turn.”  
  
In desperation, Blueberry pulled until his skull squeezed through the too-tight space and dropped below the bones just as another buried itself in the rock he had been pressed against. He was out-matched; he realized that. But if he devoted any mental energy to worrying about it, he wouldn’t have a chance—he didn’t even have room for dread. On some level he was terrified that he would panic and lose whatever chance of survival he had, but he felt as if the decision to panic or to focus was out of his hands already.  
  
He focused everything on his next volley, surprising himself with the number and precision and speed of his attacks. The fox flinched under the onslaught, raising his arm to protect his skull.  
  
Blueberry kept it up as long as he could, then leaned against the rock, panting. His vision blurred for a moment, but with an effort he looked up at the fox—his skull was streaked with red in a few places, at least. His clothing and remaining ear were so ragged already it was hard to tell if there was any additional damage.  
  
“That’s what I get for going easy on ya.” The fox grinned ruefully, clutching at one of the scratches on his skull. Perhaps he meant to wipe the blood away but he only smeared it around. A grotesque horned animal skull materialized in the air beside him and opened its jaws, something glowing—   
  
Blueberry fought back toward consciousness. It wasn’t until he felt fox-sized phalanges against his chest that he remembered why it was so important that he wake up. He kicked and squirmed out from under the fox’s hand, only to be pinned tighter by the other. He sank his teeth into a metacarpal and was rewarded with the taste of blood.  
  
“Relax, I’m not gonna dust ya,” said the fox, although he sounded irritated.   
  
Blueberry took some small comfort in having cracked his relaxed demeanor. He twisted around and clawed at the ground, pulling himself halfway out of the fox’s grasp before he was pinned again.  
  
“Calm down, bunny. If you force me to be rough with ya—I might end up with a handful of dust after all.”  
  
Blueberry turned his skull to look up at the fox just in time to see him raise a small bone construct. He didn’t remember the impact.  
  
***  
  
Blueberry woke again, at first hazy, then suddenly recalling that he needed to be alert to fight against Blood. He couldn’t see the fox—he couldn’t see anything. It was dark. But in a few moments, he made out a ceiling above him, the tops of walls—he was indoors, someplace meant for larger monsters, judging by the size of the room and height of the ceiling.  
  
“Oh, you’re awake!”  
  
The voice wasn’t Blood. He couldn’t smell anything but fox, so perhaps it was another one. His suspicion was confirmed as the newcomer leaned over him.  
  
“I’m so glad! I always like meeting new bunnies.”  
  
Blueberry would have shrunk away as the skeleton fox’s skull invaded his personal space, but he realized his wrists and ankles were bound, and he was contained in some kind of box—metal, judging by the cold hard surface his skull pressed against. And his clothes were missing. That was a bad sign.  
  
“N-nice to meet you too,” he stammered, buying time to figure out what was happening. The fox’s attitude seemed friendly—it really would have been nice to meet him under different circumstances, especially if he could find the good manners to be something other than a fox—but the breath that flowed over the bunny from between the jagged teeth smelled of blood and dust.  
  
The fox stood up straight and Blueberry realized he was much taller than Blood. He also had both ears—he might have been in pretty good shape if not for his teeth. “What’s your name, bunny? Mine is Papyrus!”  
  
“Uh. Blueberry,” the bunny answered. It couldn’t hurt, and it would keep the fox talking for the moment.  
  
“I’ve got something for you.” The fox grinned with undisguised delight, and Blueberry hoped it was a bunny-sized knife to cut himself free. But it wasn’t. “Here, drink this.”  
  
The fox reached in to lift Blueberry’s skull, and his phalanges smelled of dust, too. Blueberry’s eyelights tried to track his other hand as he reached for something, but he only saw the metal walls rising around him—a bit too tall to step over, but he could easily scramble out if only he had free use of his legs. As the fox lifted his skull, he caught a glimpse of a red and white checked surface beyond the wall, but it wasn’t the floor, as it was only a little under waist-height on the fox.  
  
Something clinked against his teeth and he held them determinedly shut. It was a little cup of something pungent that the fox was urging him to drink. How could he trust a fox under these circumstances?  
  
“Come on, bunny. It’s good for you.”  
  
Blueberry glared. Why had the fox asked his name if he was just going to keep saying ‘bunny’? He couldn’t ask what the liquid was without risking having it poured down his throat, so he just turned his skull away from it.  
  
“I know it doesn’t smell tasty, but it’ll help,” the fox encouraged him.  
  
“Help with what?” he blurted, and just as he’d feared, the fox tilted the contents of the cup into his mouth. Blueberry spluttered and spat, but he’d already swallowed most of it.  
  
“Well, we don’t want you to go to dust, do we? We also can’t have you moving around too much.” The fox gently lowered his skull back onto the cold hard surface.  
  
“What?!” Blueberry demanded, rolling over in order to use his hands, bound as they were, to push himself up into a sitting position. From there he could get to his feet if he braced against the side of the pan—that was what it was. A pan. Maybe it was the realization, or maybe it was whatever Papyrus had given him, but he was suddenly too faint to stand, leaning against the metal just to stay sitting.  
  
“Now, bunny, don’t try to run off,” the fox tsked as if he were a misbehaving child. “This is where you belong!” He pressed one finger against Blueberry’s skull until he fell back into his original position. “You just lie there while I get everything ready, and give the herbs some time to work. I promise it won’t hurt. As much.”  
  
Maybe it was because Blueberry was a little small even for a bunny, but he found he was already too numb and clumsy to make a second attempt at escaping the pan.  
  
“What was that stuff?” he demanded, but the fox ignored him, humming a little off-key as he shuffled objects around with his back toward the bunny. What was he doing? He kept going back and forth to what Blueberry surmised was a refrigerator, but he couldn’t raise his head to see over the lip of the pan.   
  
“We’ll start with some vegetables,” the fox announced at last. Blueberry didn’t get a good look at them but he could easily identify them by smell—carrots, onions, lettuce, all his favorites, and somewhere there was bread and spice and apple as well. The scents were so intermingled he wasn’t sure which one was sliding against the inside of his ribs and spine; he could still feel it despite the numbness. He shuddered involuntarily as something caught on his ribs, wondering if it would have hurt without the desensitizing effects of whatever the fox had given him.   
  
Soon his small rib cage was packed full, a distinctly unpleasant sensation. But if he focused on it he didn’t have to think about why the fox was doing this.   
  
When the fox started on his pelvis he found a hidden reserve of energy that allowed him to squirm away, or at least press himself against one end of the pan.   
  
“Nah ah, bunny, you need to hold still!” Papyrus slid him firmly back into position, making him yelp.   
  
That seemed to help Blueberry find his voice, at least. But he didn’t know what to say that would make the fox listen. “Please don’t—what are you doing?”  
  
“What am I doing? Don’t you want to be ready for dinner, bunny?”  
  
“No?”  
  
The fox paused a moment and then laughed it off. “Of course you do! It would be such a shame if you weren’t. We have company tonight, after all.”  
  
Blueberry wilted. Great, more foxes, probably.   
  
“Don’t worry, bunny! I know you’re on the small side but we’ll all share.”  
  
Blueberry tensed again. How were they gonna do that? “You can’t chop me into pieces. I’ll dust!” Although he was beginning to think that might be one of the better outcomes for him.   
  
The fox chuckled knowingly. “You’ll see. Now let’s get you in the oven.”  
  
“Oven?” Blueberry yelped. But the fox didn’t pick him up; he started painting the bunny’s skull with some kind of brush. For a moment Blueberry was confused, but then he realized the liquid wasn’t a pigment but some kind of glaze. It smelled delicious. “What is that?” he demanded, forgetting about the oven for the moment.   
  
“I can’t give away my recipe, not even to you. But the secret ingredient is honey!”  
  
“Honey?” Blueberry’s soul froze for a moment. Had the fox already gotten hold of his brother? And turned him into some kind of sauce? Which he’d thought smelled delicious just a moment ago?  
  
“You don’t like honey?” The fox seemed crestfallen, but recovered in a moment. “Oh well, you’re not the one eating it.”  
  
“How could you—?” After all this, only now did Blueberry feel hot tears pricking the corners of his eye sockets.  
  
“I told you, I can’t give away my secrets.” The fox seemed proud, flattered to be asked.  
  
“No! I mean—” Blueberry broke off, realizing that in light of what the foxes had done to him, killing a bunny probably didn’t mean anything to them one way or another. He must have been too scared to cry before, but the thought of Honey already being gone set his tears flowing.  
  
“I hope those are happy tears.” Papyrus resumed brushing on the substance, letting it seep in between Blueberry’s ribs. As much as he didn’t like the idea of it dripping down inside him, the fact that it didn’t made him newly aware of how uncomfortably full his chest cavity was. The fox carried on conversationally. “Really, I don’t see why you need to know the whole recipe. You won’t have a chance to use it yourself.”  
  
“What? No. You already told me your—your ‘secret ingredient’!” Blueberry spat.  
  
“Honey? It upsets you that much?”  
  
“He was my brother!”  
  
The fox tilted his head in confusion. The little flop of his ears would have been adorable in other circumstances. Blueberry grit his teeth and with a monumental effort managed to raise his skull and glare at the fox, in spite of the weakness induced by whatever poison he’d been force-fed.  
  
“Oh, no, you’ve got to keep still now!” the fox protested, and Blueberry had the small satisfaction of having managed to irritate him at least a little. It was worth having his skull pushed down and feeling Papyrus’s fingers inside his ribs as he adjusted the stuffing. “Be a good bunny or I won’t be able to coat you properly,” the fox admonished before resuming his work with the bunny’s pelvis and what little of his spine wasn’t buried in chopped veggies. Blueberry tried to squirm, then to kick the brush away as it caressed his legs, but he didn’t have it in him any longer. Defeated, he let his skull roll to one side.  
  
“That’s a good bunny! Oh, one more thing. Mustn’t forget this!” Before Blueberry registered what was happening, Papyrus waved his hand across the bunny’s chest and drew out his soul with a ping.  
  
“No!” Blueberry gasped weakly, but the fox swept the tiny soul away out of view. Blueberry felt as if he’d been dunked in the river—but he was still here in the pan, not dry but only glistening and sticky with glaze. His soul had been submerged in something, something that might have been pleasantly refreshing if it weren’t so desperately cold. What could it be?  
  
“All ready!” Papyrus chirped, and lifted Blueberry from the table, pan and all.  
  
The inside of the oven was already hot, and Blueberry was distantly concerned that the fox could burn his fingers if he wasn’t careful. He felt like he shouldn’t really care about that, but being separated from his soul made his mind fuzzy—or maybe it was the poison—or just the stifling heat. Once the door was shut, the heat proved to be the worst of the torments. Although missing his soul and not being able to move didn’t help, it wasn’t as if there was any way to escape from the pan as the metal surface quickly heated under him, even if he had been able to move.  
  
His tears dried, and the burning of metal against bone became so severe that he managed to twitch, not that it helped at all. There was no relief to be had trapped here inside the oven, but now the coolness on his soul was, he suspected, the only thing keeping him alive. He tried to focus on that, but even when he let his eyelights gutter out, he couldn’t help but notice the smells of cooking vegetables, the spices, the … honey … and his own bones and magic. He had to admit—to himself, since he expected to die in here—that the overall combination was enticing, except for the burning smell of the fur on his tail where the glaze hadn’t soaked through. He wondered if he would somehow burn to death without dusting; the fox seemed like he knew what he was doing, and didn’t want a pile of dust mixed with vegetables. Then again, if he’d mixed Honey’s dust with the glaze …  
  
Suddenly light flooded in as the door opened with a clank and a creak.   
  
“How are you doing, bunny?” Blueberry couldn’t move at all but he summoned the magic to form one hazy eyelight and see Papyrus’s jagged teeth floating over him. He didn’t bother trying to answer.  
  
Papyrus wasn’t bothered. “Well, you smell delicious! Time for the finishing touches, now that you’re softened up a bit.”  
  
Blueberry extinguished the eyelight again. He didn’t want to see whatever the fox was going to do.  
  
“Now, this might hurt a little bit,” the fox said, his tone more suited to warning someone that disinfecting a cut was going to sting, “but don’t worry. You won’t dust. That’s why I’ve got your soul soaking in green magic.”  
  
Blueberry ignored him until the blade bit into his ribs. His eyelights flared, but he couldn’t see much from this angle; he’d thought his voice had dried up completely but he found himself groaning feebly as the fox sawed around his sternum.  
  
“It’s okay, bunny, I’m not cutting all the way through. Just enough so we’ll be able to snap them off later. You’re probably just a bit raw in the center, that’s all.”  
  
Blueberry whimpered, no longer able to maintain his eyelights.  
  
“There you go! All done!” There was a smell of parsley, and Blueberry imagined he’d just been garnished, but he could no longer feel anything. Had he gone completely numb, or was the pain so overwhelming it blocked out all sensation? He wasn’t sure. The fox chattered on about how delicious he was going to be, and how Sans and their guests were sure to love him, but his voice sounded fainter and fainter and Blueberry couldn’t make out the words anymore.  
  
***  
  
“Boss, is that—?”  
  
“Blueberry! Are you alive?”  
  
Blueberry was retroactively aware that there had been voices, but it wasn’t worth regaining enough consciousness to pay any attention to them until one hissed his name. That fox knew his name; maybe it was him. But he’d kept on calling him ‘bunny’, so why had he finally switched? It didn’t matter. Blueberry hoped he dusted, if the fox was so concerned that he be alive.  
  
“I know he smells delicious, Edge, but you must save some for the rest of us.” That was the fox’s voice. Had he said ‘Edge’? It wasn’t really worth the suffering to stay awake enough to consider the mystery. There was no way Edge was here.   
  
“I know what you’re thinking.” Another voice. Blueberry recognized the fox that had initially caught him, the one who called himself Blood. “How are we gonna share the main dish here without cutting him into sections?”  
  
“That’s not—” It was definitely Edge’s voice.   
  
Blood spoke over him. “You underestimate my brother’s culinary prowess. Let me demonstrate.”  
  
Blueberry wouldn’t have thought he still had the power to make any noise, but when one of his ribs snapped off it came with a faint grunt of agony. He hoped it would be enough to make him pass out for good.   
  
***  
  
Edge blinked, almost doubting that he’d heard what he thought he had. The bunny hadn’t moved in the slightest. But it made sense that he wasn’t dead, or he’d have dusted. Edge glanced at his brother to make sure he wasn’t reacting too obviously, but Red had managed to keep his canine ears straight. Red’s eyelights were shocked pinpricks and he was uncomfortably stiff, but Edge wasn’t any better.  
  
“You try,” invited Blood, something threatening in the depths of his amable gaze.   
  
Edge hesitated. “He won’t dust? I’d—I’d hate the rest of him to go to waste.” His first instinct, of course, was to grab the bunny and run. But it would most likely lead to a fight and he was getting a stronger and stronger impression that Blood and his brother would be incredibly savage if they dropped their paper-thin veil of civility. Maybe if he hadn’t brought Red with him … but he couldn’t risk it for a bunny who might well be past saving anyway.   
  
“Trust me, it’s fine,” Blood assured him, his brother looking on with an air of pride in his work.   
  
Edge willed his fingers not to tremble as he grasped one of the bunny’s floating ribs, smaller and less vital then the true rib Blood had taken. Blueberry didn’t react, but he’d managed to summon a dim eyelight to look back at Edge. There was no telling if he recognized him or not. Edge pulled on the rib and it snapped off easily.   
  
He wished Red would maintain a bit more of a poker face and not stare as he brought the rib to his jaws. When he found he couldn’t stop his hand trembling, he steadied it with the other, and popped the rib in between his teeth before anyone could notice him hesitating. It tasted good—clearly the other Papyrus was a skilled chef—but disturbingly familiar; he hadn’t ever tasted Blueberry, but he was familiar enough with the bunny’s scent to identify the flavor.  
  
Blood and his brother, whom they had nicknamed Sugar, watched expectantly, so Edge nodded. “Very well prepared.”   
  
The foxes turned their gaze on Red. Red giggled nervously.  
  
“Red,” Edge said meaningfully, catching his eye. “You’d better not hog the whole bunny for yourself. You can be so greedy sometimes.”  
  
Red laughed harder, and Edge knew he’d understood. Blood rolled his eyelights.  
  
“Sugar! You must tell me how you did it. Is that honey I taste?” Edge tried to draw their attention away from Red, so they’d have less chance to stop him.  
  
“Yes!” Sugar answered, apparently thrilled. “But I can’t give away all of my—” He broke off, looking dismayed.  
  
“Red, what are you doing?” Blood was sensitive enough to his brother’s moods to voice his concern for him.  
  
Red looked up at them guiltily, poised to shove Blueberry whole into his mouth.  
  
“Red! What do you think you’re doing?” Edge turned toward his brother, hands on his hips, trying to block the foxes’ view.  
  
Red took the hint, shoving the bunny’s skull between his jaws. Blueberry didn’t react at all, his legs hanging limply from Red’s mouth as he swallowed hurriedly. They could only hope that it wouldn’t be too much for the bunny; Red would feel awful if his friend dusted inside him.  
  
“I can’t believe you did that!” Edge scolded, banishing the relief from his voice. He turned to their hosts. “I’m terribly sorry; my brother is such a glutton. We’ll make it up to you another time, I promise.” He wasn’t sure if they could arrange anything the foxes would think equal to a skeleton rabbit, but for the moment he just wanted to smooth things over before anyone summoned an attack.  
  
“It’s okay,” shrugged Blood. “We’ve still got the best part right here.”  
  
Edge couldn’t quite make sense of what he was seeing. Blood had gestured toward a small dish next to the now-empty pan, where a small white object rested on a leaf of lettuce. Edge felt his own soul sink, especially when Blood reached out and plucked up the bunny’s soul between two distal phalanges, his blood-red tongue lolling out in anticipation.  
  
“Wait—” Edge started to say, without any plan as to how to finish the sentence, but luckily, Sugar spoke over him. “Brother! You know the rule!”  
  
“Sure I do,” Blood answered, “but I don’t really think it applies this time, when Red already had way more than his fair share.”  
  
“Whoever gets the skull gets the soul! That’s the rule!” Sugar insisted.  
  
“The rule?” Edge repeated dully.  
  
“Oh, is it different where you’re from?” Blood looked at him with a subtle mixture of contempt and envy; he knew that Edge was from a world where they had enough food to go around, and was sometimes shocked by how wasteful they could be with it. “Keeping the soul together with the skull stops them dusting so fast, lets you get a bit more nutrition out of ‘em.”  
  
“I—I see.” Edge was thankful his bones were already white and couldn’t go pale. “So—Red gets the soul, too.”  
  
“Yes!” said Sugar.  
  
“I guess so,” Blood said with some resentment.  
  
Edge snatched the little white heart out of Blood’s grasp and thrust it at his brother, who nearly dropped it before shoving it into his mouth with both hands.  
  
Edge took him by the shoulders and guided him toward the door, watching the foxes over his shoulder to see if they were angry enough to attack. “Well! I think it’d be the height of inconsideration on our part to stay for dessert after such a display of greed over the main course! So! We’ll just be leaving a little bit early! Red, for stars’ sake stop laughing!”  
  
“You know I can’t help it, Boss. We are hyenas, after all!”  
  
“Pardon us!” Edge couldn’t suppress a nervous chuckle of his own as they ducked out the front door.  
  
***  
  
Blueberry was first aware of something cool and soothing on his skull. It didn’t hurt too much anymore to form an eyelight, although it was a bit weak and he couldn’t see far.  
  
“Honey?” His hopes rose for a moment, until he realized what was going on. The foxes had killed Honey, so seeing him meant that Blueberry was dead too. But if Honey was here in the afterlife, maybe that wasn’t so bad after all.  
  
“Hey,” Honey said softly, still dabbing Blueberry’s skull with a damp rag. “How’re you feelin’?”  
  
Blueberry tried to sit up, but every last bone was sore and tender and protested the movement. “Ugh, terrible. I thought we’d be free from pain once we were dead?”  
  
Honey drew back, suddenly stiff. “Dead?”  
  
Blueberry’s soul clenched with pity. “Honey. Do you remember what happened?”  
  
“You got caught by a fox,” Honey answered gently. “I wasn’t there, but I heard about it afterward.”  
  
Blueberry blinked away a tear. Had Honey already been dead when he’d been caught? “That’s right.” He waited for Honey to continue, but he didn’t. “And—so did you.”  
  
“What? No, I didn’t.”  
  
“Of course you did, Honey. That’s why we’re both here now.” Keeping his movements slow and tentative, Blueberry was able to raise his skull and roll over far enough to support himself with one elbow.  
  
“Blue, you’ve been through a lot. You’re confused.”  
  
“I’m sorry, Honey. They told me—and it must be true, because you’re here with me now. And I know for sure I died.”  
  
“Blue, why do you …?”  
  
“I remember—That fox, he—And then Edge was there, but—” Blueberry shuddered at the memories.  
  
“Shh, it’s okay.” Honey caressed his brother’s skull with his bare phalanges. “You’re safe now.”  
  
Blueberry sniffled. “I suppose. Nothing can hurt us now. Except—I still hurt all over. Can I—is it going to be like this forever?” It occurred to him that in the afterlife, the state of his body might be fixed. That would be fine if he’d appeared whole and restored, but he was still suffering aftereffects of what had been done to him. And what about Honey? Had he been dusted quickly and humanely, or did he have lingering injuries too?  
  
“Of course not, Blue, we’ll get you healed up. Here, now that you’re awake, have a monster candy.”  
  
Blueberry swallowed the candy when Honey placed it on his tongue. He was surprised they had things like that here, but then again, if monsters could be injured, maybe they were needed. Did that mean he could get injured again later, or was the candy only for new arrivals? Maybe Honey would know more. “How long have you been here?”  
  
“Just a few hours. Edge came and got me when you were stabilized.”  
  
“Edge?” Blueberry repeated, uncomprehending. “What happened to him? Wait, he ‘got’ you? I thought the foxes got you! What did Edge have to do with it?” He remembered how amenable Edge had seemed to the idea of eating him—had his so-called friend been cooperating with the foxes from the beginning? Blueberry sat up straight, got dizzy, and fell back onto what he now realized was an unfamiliar, worn but soft blanket. He was still naked, although it looked like he’d been covered with a scrap of cloth before he’d dislodged it with his movements.  
  
“Please, Blue, calm down. You’ve been through a lot, and I think you’re confused.”  
  
“Maybe. But I guess we’ve got all eternity to figure out what happened.” Blueberry looked around. He was indoors, not at home, of course, but he was surprised the room was only a little nicer than what he’d seen of the foxes’ house, and built on the same scale. Did foxes and other large monsters go to the same place as bunnies when they died?  
  
“We can take our time, yes. But not literally eternity, Blue. You aren’t dead.”  
  
“How do you figure?”  
  
“Edge and Red saved you. Well, mostly Red, I guess. Wait here a second—I should tell them you’re awake.”  
  
Blueberry stared after him in confusion as he hopped down from the table. The candy had helped him form his eyelights more properly and he could see where he was now—in a box on a table in a room almost exactly like the last one he remembered. He shuddered involuntarily, but the box was not metal but wicker, and padded with cloth. The ceiling was a bit stained, but it didn’t smell of blood or dust—although faintly of tomatoes.  
  
“Hey, bunny, how ya doin’?” Red walked up to the table, his grin casual but his ears weighed down with guilt. “Sorry I probably scared ya half to death. Hope I didn’t hurt ya any.”  
  
Blueberry wasn’t sure what exactly Red was apologizing for. “I don’t remember—but I feel a little better than when—than I did before.” He managed a weak grin.  
  
Edge approached more hesitantly, carrying Honey. “Blueberry. I’ll leave you alone, but just let me say—I apologize. I won’t make any excuses.”  
  
“For what?” Blueberry asked.  
  
“Your—your rib.” Edge gestured vaguely, and Blueberry looked down at his bare rib cage. He could immediately see that one was missing.  
  
“What—oh!” Scattered snippets of memory came back to him, but he couldn’t put them in a logical order. “Did you—? What did you do?”  
  
“No, I—but I did, the smaller one, there.”  
  
Blueberry hadn’t even noticed the other missing rib, the empty space hidden behind the others. “Why—?”  
  
Edge looked away, ears pressed back.   
  
Red covered his mouth to hold back a nervous laugh. “I think we oughta wait until you’re feeling better to tell you all the gory details.”  
  
“No!” Blueberry sat all the way up, to prove he was okay, only wincing a little. “Tell me what happened. Honey?”  
  
Edge set Honey on the table and the bunny hurried back to kneel beside his brother. “Maybe we should start with what you do remember. But don’t strain yourself.”  
  
Red had composed himself. “I dunno, it’s gotta be pretty upsettin’ no matter how gently you break it.”  
  
“Please, I want to know.” Tears formed in Blueberry’s eye sockets. “I remember—fighting with that fox. Blood. I guess I—lost? His brother—Papyrus—he made me drink something. And I was already tied up. I guess I’d been unconscious.”  
  
“We call him Sugar,” Red interrupted, unable to let his brother’s name be besmirched.  
  
“Sugar, then. He—he had some vegetables and—and some kinda sauce! He said the secret ingredient was you, Honey, so I thought—”  
  
“It was probably just regular honey,” Honey suggested gently.  
  
“Then why didn’t he say—? Maybe he did, I don’t remember.”  
  
“Never mind the details, Blueberry.” Edge had been reticent but now intervened to guide the bunny away from some of the traumatic memories. “Did you see us come in?”  
  
“You—you said I shouldn’t go to waste, or something like that.”  
  
Edge’s ear flicked but he kept still and expressionless.  
  
“And you broke off one of my ribs?”  
  
“Yes. Blood took the other one.”  
  
“You’re gonna be okay,” Honey assured him. “But those probably won’t grow back.”  
  
“That’s all right—No one’ll see once I get my clothes back on.” Blueberry leaned against the side of the basket and Honey put a supporting arm around him. He looked up at Edge. “But why—?”  
  
“I have no excuse. But I judged it the most likely route to escape without confrontation.” Edge met the bunny’s gaze steadily.  
  
“It was risky, but you survived, you gotta give us that,” said Red. “Besides, I ate a lot more of ya than Boss, so if you’re gonna be mad at someone …” He shrugged.  
  
“You did?” Blueberry had thought he remembered being surrounded by sharp teeth and red magic squishing him from all sides, but since everyone insisted that he was still alive, that must have been some kind of dream or hallucination.  
  
“No, it was my idea,” said Edge. “You can blame me for that, too.”  
  
“Why would you do that?” Blueberry couldn’t be too angry about something that didn’t seem real or even plausible.  
  
“I judged it the best overall chance at minimizing injury. Those foxes—they are formidable fighters. Imagine if we’d rejected their hospitality and stolen their food.”  
  
“We did pretty much steal their food anyway,” Red added.  
  
“But we largely avoided insulting them.”  
  
Honey’s grip on Blueberry’s shoulder tightened.  
  
“I don’t know if it was the right choice,” said Edge, still serious but a bit less cowed now that Blueberry didn’t seem to be holding the rib against him. “We might have been able to grab you and run without further injury, and it would have saved you a little pain. But it may be to all our benefit not to make enemies of those foxes.”  
  
“Your benefit, maybe,” said Honey.  
  
“And yours if you opt to stay here.”  
  
“Why would we stay here after what you did to Blue?”  
  
“I can’t see that you have much choice in the short term.”  
  
He had a point. If they went back home, they wouldn’t have luxuries like monster candy; and besides, he didn’t think he was up to the journey. “It’s okay, Honey. They did rescue me in the end.”  
  
Honey grumbled, but he relented. “You’re right, I—it’s a lot to deal with. I forgot for a moment that you saved his life, too.”  
  
Blueberry shivered. It would have been easier for the hyenas to politely eat a couple of his ribs and then let the foxes finish him off. No conflict, and no need for Honey to find out. What could he do even if he knew? He was just a bunny.  
  
“Well, we still want to make it up to ya, right, Boss?” said Red.  
  
“Right. Let me fix you something nourishing to eat, for starters.” Edge stalked over to the counter and started taking out ingredients and tools.  
  
“Honey, Honey!” Blueberry clung to his brother’s sweater. “I really don’t wanna be here in the kitchen while he’s cooking.”  
  
“Oh, yeah, you probably don’t wanna watch that, huh?” Red took hold of the basket and Honey climbed aboard before he picked it up. “You’ve got vegetable-related trauma. Lettuce go in the other room, I’m sure Boss will kale us when the lasagna’s done.”  
  
“Red!” Edge scolded, but he was snickering.  
  
“What’s the big dill, you think my puns are corny? I lost olive my good vegetable jokes, bean looking for them everywhere, but I’m sure they’ll turnip eventually. Like we were saying, you bunnies can stay as long as you want; after all, you don’t take up mushroom.”  
  
“Red! Stop!” Blueberry protested with a hint of his usual fire, as Edge leaned against the counter and Honey doubled over in laughter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Consequences for the fell hyenas

“Sure you don’t want to tell the bunnies?” Red asked as he booted up the machine.   
  
“Yes,” Edge answered shortly. Red could understand why. Even if the bunnies had forgiven Red and Edge for their involvement, it was likely to rub them the wrong way that the hyenas were still maintaining friendly dealings with the foxes. That was understandable after what the foxes had done to Blueberry. Edge didn’t seem thrilled to be visiting them again either. Before the incident he’d held some admiration for their strength and ferocity, but now it seemed to be wholly strategic. That was understandable too considering how much he seemed to like the bunnies. Red had been bemused by Edge’s apparent affection for a couple of helpless creatures, but now he thought visiting them would have made the interdimensional trip more fun for Edge and less purely business.   
  
“All right, if you say so. I don’t know why they didn’t just stay with us where it’s safer.”  
  
Edge only grunted as he stepped through the portal.   
  
***  
  
“Come on in,” said Blood when he saw them. He and Edge seemed content to pretend nothing awkward had happened at their last meeting. It made Red anxious and giggly, worried his tongue would slip and bring it up again if the air weren’t cleared between them. Sugar was eagerly hovering, waiting for a chance to get them something, and Red supposed he’d forgiven them as a gracious host would.   
  
Blood led them to the couch and sat them down. “Do you guys have Gryftmas in your world?”  
  
“We do,” Edge confirmed.   
  
“That’s great. I don’t suppose you brought any presents? Nah, I’m kidding. We didn’t get you anything either.”  
  
Edge laughed somewhat more awkwardly than Red.   
  
Blood continued. “But we do have some traditional Gryftmas cider.”  
  
That was the signal for Sugar to delightedly rush off to the kitchen and return proudly bearing two steaming mugs of dark brown liquid. Red accepted one and glanced at Edge for guidance; his brother was already sipping the cider, so Red took a generous drink from his own cup. It was nearly hot enough to burn his tongue, sharp and spicy—he liked it more than he expected to like anything from this dark universe.  
  
“How do you like it?” Blood asked as his brother watched eagerly for the guests’ reaction.  
  
“’S great,” Red said, and noticed his voice slurring a little more than he intended. “Izzit alcoholic?” he asked as he slumped into the couch.  
  
“No, that’s just the drug taking effect,” Blood assured him.  
  
“Wha?” That seemed like it deserved more of a reaction, but Red couldn’t stay awake a moment longer. Edge leaned against him, no better off, and his eyelights winked out as his skull lolled against the back of the couch.  
  
***  
  
Edge was uncomfortable. It was cold. Perhaps that had woken him up, but although he wasn’t  a pro at sleeping like his brother, he took professional pride in being able to rest efficiently even in suboptimal conditions. No, it was something else. Red whimpered, and it had an unusual muffled, pained quality. That was it. Red was in trouble. Edge’s eyelights flared to life.   
  
“Good morning, sunshine,” Blood greeted him. “I’m glad you’re awake to watch the fun.”  
  
They were outdoors, Edge realized. The foxes couldn’t build a fire like this in their kitchen. Red was lying in the snow, apparently no more able to move than Edge was. Their clothes were gone, and their wrists and ankles were bound, but perhaps due to the aftereffects of the spiked drinks, Edge couldn’t even strain against the ropes. Red lay on his front, arms under him, almost sideways to Edge but at enough of an angle that he could turn desperate eyelights on his brother, even if he couldn’t turn his skull. At least his face wasn’t pressed into the snow. “Boss,” he called through the gag, the word almost indistinguishable.   
  
Edge found himself gagged as well, so there was no point in speaking. He summoned a bone construct. Surely he could nip the ropes off of Red without damaging him. Or if it seemed unlikely, he could cut himself free. But the first matter of business was to knock these treacherous foxes flying.   
  
The bone didn’t appear. Edge reached for their souls to turn them blue, but he couldn’t even feel them. The foxes were unfortunately not stupid and hadn’t left any obvious vulnerability for him.   
  
Blood was crouched near Red’s skull, and behind the prone skeleton Sugar was examining some kind of rod. “You startin’ from that end?” Blood asked.   
  
“Yes. The skull is the least unwieldy part,” came the reply.   
  
“I’ll hold ‘im down,” Blood offered, moving to block Edge’s view of his brother’s skull, but unfortunately not of Sugar threading the rod through Red’s pelvis and then ribs. Red yelled in protest through the gag. “Hush, quiet now, doggy,” Blood admonished as he untied the rag around the prisoner’s jaw.  
  
“What’s the big idea?” Red demanded once he could speak. “What’s wrong with you?”  
  
Blood didn’t answer his questions, only lining up his skull so that Sugar could push the rod out through his mouth, leaving him completely impaled. Sugar tied his ankles to the rod. Edge realized he’d been so fixated on watching this horror that he’d stopped struggling against his own paralysis.  
  
“Ready? On three.” The foxes cooperated to lift Red over the fire, the rod fitting neatly into the tops of two poles that were there for that purpose. It seemed like they had probably done this before.  
  
Edge finally managed to twitch hard enough to knock himself over. Fortunately or not, he found himself lying on his side, with, if anything, an even better view of what was happening to Red. Perhaps Red was driven to sufficient heights of desperation by the flames reflecting off his bones to overcome the drug, or perhaps it was just wearing off; he started to squirm in earnest, although with his arms bound to his sides there wasn’t much he could do. His words were even less intelligible around the pole than they had been through the gag.  
  
Red started off facing down but soon squirmed enough that he was hanging by his ribs, facing upward. His tail could have dangled into the fire, but he wrapped it tightly around his legs.  
  
“Good job, Red, you rotated yourself.” Blood patted his skull, eliciting a yelp. Was he already being burned—roasted? Edge growled, pulling weakly at his bonds. “I’ll keep an eye on ‘im, bro. You can go make the side dishes.”  
  
Blood dragged over a lawn chair and sat down. At first he kept a somewhat relaxed watch over the captives. Calculatingly, Edge relaxed his bones and held still, hiding what little ability to move he’d regained. Soon enough he was rewarded as Blood dozed off, snoring audibly.  
  
Red whimpered, reminding him that every second was torture for his brother. Edge resumed his efforts, but even as his strength returned, he remained unable to free himself. The foxes knew how to restrain a monster and had not skimped on the rope.  
  
The minutes dragged by slowly for Edge, on high alert and vicariously tormented by every whine that escaped Red, even as he wished his brother would keep it down in order to reduce the risk of waking up Blood. When he was able to move his skull, he turned to look at Blood instead, watching for signs of movement. He told himself the golden tinge on Red’s bones was just a reflection of the fire and not anything more serious.  
  
Soon enough—after what felt like a century—Edge was confident he could roll across the ground to the fire. But what good would it do? He couldn’t free his brother like this. No doubt Blood would wake up and disable him somehow if he tried. He growled with frustration, nearly covering the slight sound of someone approaching.  
  
It must be Sugar, come to tell Blood that preparations for their meal were complete, Edge thought with a jolt of panic. But it wasn’t.  
  
“Red! Is that you?”  
  
“Shh! Look, there’s Edge.”  
  
It was Blueberry and Honey. What were they doing here? Edge didn’t dare ask, only thanking his lucky stars as the bunnies crept over to him and started to gnaw at his bonds.  
  
With a force of will, Edge kept quiet and waited. The noise of bunny teeth on rope seemed deafening, impossible for Blood to sleep through, but he didn’t stir. At last the sound stopped and a bunny hand patted Edge’s arm to make sure he knew they were done. Shakily, he got to his feet, and the ropes fell away. He still didn’t have any magic; he felt for a collar but found nothing. It must be the same poison that had knocked him out and left him paralyzed and helpless, blocking his magic as well.  
  
Blood would have no such disadvantage; if the fox woke up, there was no way Edge could beat him. Maybe he was already awake, waiting for a convenient moment to ambush Edge. If he was, there was nothing Edge could do about it now; he gave his full attention to the problem of getting his brother down from the spit, turning his back on Blood. He managed to lift Red down, rod and all, without dropping him in the fire, but it was a close thing; still weak from the poison, he dropped Red on the ground with a thump. The bunnies immediately set to gnawing him free while Edge caught his breath. He avoided looking at Blood, afraid of what he would see. Red gasped when he landed in the snow but otherwise kept quiet, aware of how vital it was they not get caught.  
  
Edge tried to help with the ropes, but the bunnies were much more efficient. He hadn’t gotten back all his fine motor control yet, it seemed. But Honey had his priorities straight and focused first on the ropes holding Red to the rod; as soon as they came loose, Edge started sliding the offending length of metal out the same way it had gone in, trying with mixed success not to scrape it against bone. Red twitched every time it touched him, but maintained silence. The bunnies finished with the rest of the ropes at about the same time the pole was finally out, and Edge tugged his brother upright. Normally he would be happy to carry Red, but at the moment it might be more than he could handle. Fortunately, Red was able to stagger along while holding onto Edge’s arm, and the bunnies scampered along with them, keeping up easily.  
  
Edge risked a glance at Blood. He hadn’t moved. He wasn’t just biding his time; he’d missed the all the best opportunities to recapture them without trouble. Of course, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t if he—or Sugar—caught sight of them. But now that it seemed they had a chance, Edge fumed with outrage that they’d been treated this way, reduced to fleeing, naked and weakened, back to the portal. What had the foxes done with his scarf? He couldn’t risk all their lives to look for it.  
  
Luckily, the foxes hadn’t locked the door to their lab since the hyenas’ arrival. Honey activated a portal to take them home, and he and Blueberry followed them through.  
  
***  
  
Edge didn’t relax and check himself for injuries until they had slunk into their own house. It would have been better to open the portal in the living room, but it was quicker not to be so precise, he thought as he went to his room and put on whatever clothing was closest at hand. The thought made him wonder if the foxes would pursue them here and drag them back—they were at their weakest right now. He rushed back down the stairs to see Red sprawled on the couch and the bunnies looking after him. Luckily they knew their way around the house from their previous stay.  
  
“Sans—Red, are you conscious?” As much as he would like to let his brother rest, it was urgent they defend themselves if they could. “Did you ever get that blocking function working?”  
  
“Mm, probably,” Red groaned. “Haven’t really tested it out, ya know?”  
  
“Will I be able to tell how to turn it on?” Edge asked, not wanting to make his brother get up and do it in the state he was in.  
  
“Nah, I’ll do it.” Red sat up, then sank back down. “Forgot I can’t teleport.”  
  
“I can figure it out,” Honey suggested.  
  
Edge nodded. “Go ahead. Come right back if you have trouble.” Time was of the essence. The foxes were likely to have discovered they were missing by now, and it would be easy to guess where they’d gone. But even if it took Honey a few minutes to work out the controls, it would take Red that long to walk to the machine.  
  
While they waited, he fetched some salve for Red’s bones and helped Blueberry apply it. The bunny could reach all the nooks and crannies and had a lighter touch on the worst-burnt places. Some of the tension left Red’s bones as they were soothed. Edge gave him a monster candy from the first aid kit.   
  
Edge prided himself on being cool under pressure, but he was getting very nervous by the time Honey reappeared. “Well?” he asked, impatient, unable to guess the outcome from the rabbit’s attitude. If he’d failed he would be more upset about it, right? But he didn’t seem happy either.   
  
“No problem,” the bunny answered. “Nobody from any alternate universe is getting in here. If it works.”  
  
“If it works?” Blueberry echoed, alarmed.   
  
“It oughta work. But I never actually tested it,” Red explained without sitting up.   
  
“We shall have to wait and see,” Edge said grimly.   
  
“Honey and I can set up an alarm,” Red offered, although he clearly didn’t relish the idea of volunteering for more work. “So you’ll know if anyone does come through.”  
  
“That’s great!” Blueberry climbed up on his ribs, making him flinch.   
  
“At least we’ll be able to relax without worrying about those foxes suddenly breaking down the door,” said Honey.   
  
Edge grumbled. Even if the alarm worked—and they’d have to sacrifice some security if they wanted to test it—he couldn’t rule out the possibility that the foxes had already gotten through and were biding their time for some reason. But he had to admit it seemed too unlikely to bring up and worry the others. He didn’t like all this uncertainty and he took it out in Red by finding him some clothes (the softest and least irritating he could) and throwing them at his face.   
  
***  
  
The alarm didn’t go off and the foxes never showed up, so Edge returned to his baseline level of caution. The bunnies were happy enough to stay with them; they hadn’t had much in their home universe and it wasn’t worth going back for.   
  
Red was taking advantage of Blueberry’s generous and caring nature to be pampered after his experience, well past the point he deserved. Edge said as much to Honey one evening when they’d retreated to the hyena’s bed.  
  
“It’s fine,” Honey dismissed his concern. “He enjoys it. Just wait, someday soon Blue’ll decide Red has been spoiled enough and start nagging him to spend his time more productively.”  
  
“Good luck.” Edge had never had much success with that.   
  
“At least if he’s occupied with Red he’s not nagging me,” Honey sighed wistfully and stretched out across Edge’s ribs.   
  
“Are you lonely?”  
  
“Course not. How could I be lonely with all four of us living together?”  
  
“But you have a special connection with your brother.”  
  
Honey propped himself up on his elbows to look up at Edge. “Well, we have something of a ‘special connection’ too.”  
  
“Do we still?”   
  
“Of course we do. Why wouldn’t we?”  
  
“I thought after what happened to Blueberry…”  
  
Honey frowned. But after a moment he crawled closer to Edge’s skull. “That doesn’t change anything.”  
  
“Are you sure?” Edge tried to ask, but the moment his jaws parted Honey inserted his arms and held them open. It would be easy to bite down anyway, of course, but even if he were careful not to hurt the delicate bunny, he would feel rude. He couldn’t ask what Honey was trying to do, but he perked his ears curiously.   
  
Honey grinned at him mischievously, then ducked his skull between the sharp teeth and pushed his shoulders in as well. Edge kept his jaws relaxed, not trapping the bunny at all. His tongue formed of its own accord, and Honey leaned against it, sliding deeper. Edge would have rather the bunny had gotten undressed; his hoodie dried out the hyena’s mouth a bit, and he was the one who would have to wash it later, and that after convincing the rabbit that washing it was not optional. But this didn’t seem like the time to be strict with Honey, and besides his mouth was full of bones as the bunny climbed deeper inside.  
  
“Come on, Edge,” Honey urged, prompting him to realize how long he’d lain there with the bunny in his mouth. He sat up and swallowed, paused a moment with Honey halfway down his throat, feet resting against his teeth.  
  
“Boss?”  
  
Edge swallowed again. “Don’t you ever knock, Sans?”  
  
“What—what’re ya doin’?” Red’s tail curled firmly between his legs.  
  
“Oh, relax. You can’t possibly think I’d hurt him.” Edge pretended his cheekbones weren’t heating up at having been caught.  
  
Red just stared at him, his eyelights shrunken to pinpricks.  
  
Edge sighed as if Red were trying his patience. “Remember when I told you to swallow Blueberry so we could bring him back here?”  
  
Red nodded. He’d had to have a lot of faith in Edge to carry out that plan.  
  
“How do you think I knew he’d be all right?”  
  
Red’s ears went lopsided but he didn’t move.  
  
“Honey and I have done this before.” Edge resisted the urge to look away.  
  
“You have?” Red finally unfroze. “Really? What?”  
  
“Look.” Edge lifted his pajama shirt far enough that they could see Honey looking out at them. The bunny looked concerned, but when he saw Red he gave a reassuring smile and wave. “See? He is fine!”  
  
Red still looked horrified, but Honey, satisfied that he’d proved he wasn’t hurt, made himself comfortable and appeared to fall asleep immediately.  
  
“You don’t have to stare,” Edge snapped, then continued calmly. “So what was it that was so important you teleported into my room, but not urgent enough to actually tell me about without getting distracted?”  
  
Red’s ears folded back at the unfairness, but he recovered his usual nonchalance in a moment. “Blueberry’s made some kinda dessert taco. He asked me to ‘pop in’ and see if you want any, and I guess I kinda did it without thinking.”  
  
“I see.” Edge let his ears dip with annoyance. At least it wasn’t the foxes attacking or a surprise visit from Queen Toriel. If Red had just thought before he acted, they wouldn’t be in this uncomfortable situation. “Well. No. I’m afraid I’m—full.”  
  
“I’ll just tell him you already had something sweet for dessert.” Red grinned.  
  
“No! You can’t tell him like that!” Surely Red couldn’t help but realize that this would have to be broken very gently to Blueberry, after what he’d been through.  
  
“Relax, Boss, I’m not gonna tell ‘im. That sounds like delicate work. ‘Work’ being the operative word.” He sidled toward the door and let himself out. “You two have fun then. Good night!” He closed it behind him.  
  
Edge calmed himself after the intrusion, stroking the bunny through the ectoflesh. They would have to tell Blueberry eventually, he realized. But he would worry about it when Honey was awake. For now, he lay back down, comforted by the movement of the bunny adjusting to the new position.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Yes, My Queen](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18292892) by [idontevenknowugh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/idontevenknowugh/pseuds/idontevenknowugh)




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